


Sentiment

by LilyAnson



Series: Writer's Block [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Feels, Light Angst, Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAnson/pseuds/LilyAnson
Summary: My first Sifki fic.  It started out as a one shot and refused to stay that way.





	1. Chapter 1

Once again Loki found himself on the ground, Sif above him. Her sword pressed lightly but firmly against his throat and Loki could only stare.

"Yeild," she commanded.

Mindful of the blade at his exposed throat Loki gave a shallow nod.

"That was a simple enough manuever to counter brother," Thor stated as Loki got to his feet. 

Loki didn't even bother to deign the remark with an answer. He had no good reply as it was. He would not admit that he had been too distracted by her looks to pay attention to the actual fight. As he stood he dusted himself off and nodded to Sif once more without actually looking at her. 

"Well played lady."

"He is right Loki, a child could have seen that coming," she told him.

He had to work to control the blush threatening to consume him. "Quite. If it's all the same I think I'll take my leave now and go practice something that's actually useful. Not all fights are won with brute strength," he muttered.

Entering his rooms Loki slammed the door behind himself. What had he been thinking? Of course he wasn't good enough to spar with The Wariors Three and Lady Sif. That wasn't where his talents lay and he knew it. He should have known all that would happen was that he would embarass himself. Stupid, he berated himself. He unleashed his seiðr without a specific focus. Various things in his room exploded. Suddenly there was a knock on his door. 

"What!?" Loki growled loudly.

The door opened to reveal the lady Sif and Loki froze. She glanced around his room and gave a low whistle. Loki winced. He knew what his quarters must look like and what she must think of him now.

"Is all this because of me?" she asked.

Loki stiffened in surprise. "Pardons?"

Sif rolled her eyes. "We're alone now, you don't have to hide it anymore. Honestly though? I don't think anyone could fail to realize your... feelings."

Loki stood rooted in place. Had he been that obvious? "I have no idea what you are speaking of," he told her in what he hoped was an off-handed tone.

She smiled. Not a stock smile but a genuine one. One that reminded him of all that was good and right with the world. It was an expression that rarely ever crossed her features and Loki couldn't help but stare. Walking closer to him she ran a hand down his cheek and her smile broadened. 

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki paced. He had no clue what to do or how to feel about Sif's declaration. He hated that she'd seen him at such a low point that he'd destroy his room rather than deal with the issue of actually facing him. Of course she would think less of him now. How could she not?

"You don't have to pretend; especially when we're alone," she told him.

"And just who says I have any feelings for you?" Loki hissed.

Sif flinched and Loki could have cursed himself. 

"Yes, well..." Sif stated blandly.

Loki could have kicked himself. He would have done anything to keep from hurting her, yet it seemed his every word was wrong.

"If that's all then I shall take my leave."

"No!" Loki shouted.

Sif jumped and Loki cursed himself yet again. Could he do nothing right? "I mean, you are welcomed to stay if you please?"

"It does not seem as if you wish any company," she stated evenly. 

Loki wanted to hit himself. How could he make her feel unwelcomed when she above all was the one person whose company he desired? "It is not your doing but mine. I am sorry if I made you feel unwelcomed Lady Sif. Please? Stay?"

"Why?"

"Because," Loki stated exasperated. "Because... Because I want you too!"

"Not good enough. Give me a better reason."

"Why?" Loki huffed.

"Fine," Sif answered. "Then I'm leaving."

"No!" Loki shouted. "Uh, I mean, please don't leave?"

"And why shouldn't I? Sif asked.

"Because," Loki huffed. "Because I don't want you to?"

"Is that a question?"

Loki remained silent. Yes it definitely was a question. It was just that he feared Sif would leave if he admitted to it. "No?"

"Liar."

"Please? I don't know what to say. I wish for you to stay."

"That's all you need to say."

"Really?"

"Yes," she answered with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Something itched his nose and Loki did his best to ignore it. After a several moments it became too much. He attempted to raise his right arm to scratch at the itch but soon discovered it was immobile. Loki desperately tried not to panic. There had to be a logical reason. 

“Mm, stop moving,” a very feminine voice commanded. 

Loki froze. Never had he ever let a female stay in his bed. The few females he’d ever spent the night with had left well before the sunrise. Something was wrong but he couldn’t place just what. Cautiously he cracked an eye and almost wished he hadn’t. The Lady Sif lay next to him with her head resting on his arm. Loki fought not to panic.

“Mmm,” she hummed once more. “You’re comfortable.”

Loki was torn. He had no clue how to respond. All of his instincts screamed for him to flee; to get away. And yet he could not bring himself to disturb her slumber. Shifting she brought an arm up and gripped the one of his her head rested upon.

“Mmm, so comfortable. Don’t move?”

“Never if you don’t wish it,” Loki responded instantly.

“Loki?”

“Y-y-yes,” he stammared.

“Thank you for just holding me and not requiring more.”

And suddenly his outrage was ignited. Who would require more of the beauty he was holding than her mere presence? “Do you need-” He instantly stopped speaking. No, Lady Sif did not need anyone to defend her honor. She could do that just fine on her own. What could he ever do to ingratiate himself? The answer was, of course, nothing. He could never-

“Mmm Loki?”

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

“You’re thinking too much. Relax and cuddles?”

“Yes Lady,” he replied.

“No, not lady,” Sif disagreed, “Others expect that of me. You have ever been the one that has accepted me as a warrior,” she mused as she snuggled against him.

Loki fought the urge to shiver at her forwardness. “This is not Lady like behavior,” he murmured. 

“Mm hm? And who said I was a lady?” Sif countered.

Loki was not ashamed to say he took advantage of the situation. He nuzzled her neck and inhaled the scent that was uniquely her. “No one has to say it Lady, it is merely who you are.”

She snuggled back against him and hummed once more. "You know you’re the only one that still views me as a lady?” she queried.

“That cannot be true,” Loki insisted.

Shifting she finally settled in his arms. “It is,” she whispered. “Loki?”

“Y-Yes?”

“If… If I am not a lady will you still…” 

“I would care for you deeper than the most vast ocean and higher than the sky. I would appreciate your company more than any other I could ever come across. I would ask forgiveness because I do not have the words to express what you mean to me but I would hope that at the very least you could understand. You are my Yggdrasil. My tree of life.”

Loki stared breathless awaiting her answer. He knew he should have never said anything but he couldn’t have kept his mouth shut if his life depended on it. She was his everything and she deserved to know it. Even if she turned him down at the very least he could say he tried.

“Loki?” Sif asked questioningly. 

“Yes?” he replied breathless.

“That’s exactly why I care for you.”


	4. Chapter 4

If anything it was the rain. For reasons he didn’t fully understand or even wish to contemplate that was when he did the majority of his writing. Something about the repetition of the patter from droplets plunking against whatever they hit and the unpredictability of the storms almost always spawned in him a desire to compose. Occasionally he attempted the odd short story but mostly it was poems. Yet one more thing that differentiated him; made him different from all the others. Sighing Loki looked down at what he had just written.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

“Hey!” Loki shouted as his book was ripped from his hands.

“Poetry?” Vidar scoffed.

“Give it back!” Loki demanded.

“‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride.’”

“Give. It. Back!”

“Vidar,” another voice stated blandly.

Loki froze. No, this couldn’t be. He couldn’t even turn his head; he already knew what he would see. The one person he never wanted to know of his poetry was now the one person standing up to the person that had stolen his journal. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not even in his nightmares did the lady Sif ever read his journal. Oh sweet norns, please no.

She stepped closer and tilted her head upward, to glare at the other, “Give it back.”

“I can handle this myself,” Loki attempted to growl. He had no illusions. He knew he stood no chance with her despite the night she’d spent in his room. Though nothing had happened she had still lain in his bed. He, of course, had not. She had not been able to sleep without clinging to him but afterward he had moved. Not to do so would have been a dishonor to her and he could not stand. No. His Sif deserved better. 

He frowned attempting to contemplate the phrase ‘his Sif’ before he realized Vidar still held his journal. On one hand no one could accuse her of being timid but on the other hand he looked as though he needed a woman to take up for him. As little as people already thought of him he couldn’t let this stand.

“Thank you dear lady but I _can_ handle things on my own.”

Dear gods the look she gave him, as indecipherable as it was, made him want to apologize. 

“Fine,” she announced briskly. “I was already busy. I didn’t need this distraction.”

Loki opened his mouth but promptly closed it. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t just make it worse? He was spared from forming an answer when Vidar spoke first.

“I should read the whole thing. It might interest you as you’re a woman,” Vidar smirked.

Even though he hadn’t been he who had spoken the words Loki still cringed slightly when Sif paused mid step and turned back to level a glare in their direction. He had more than enough self preservation to be thoroughly thankful that her focus was not on him. He’d watched her spar more often then he wanted to admit, even to himself, and knew what she was capable of more than most. Vidar, it seemed, did not share Loki’s assessment. Either that or he was to confident in his own abilities for his own good. 

Head high and back straight Sif stalked her way back to them. Loki stood transfixed by the sight she made; grace and danger blending together to form a beautiful mixture of something undefinable. By the time she reached them Loki had almost forgotten about everything else. Almost. Just as she arrived Loki finally remember his journal. Raising one hand he drew on his seiðr and gave a swift flick of his wrist. The journal disappeared from Vidar’s grasp and reappeared in Loki’s hands.

“Problem resolved,” Loki stated.

For a time no one moved. Just as the tension was becoming almost unbearable Sif finally turned toward Loki, nodded sharply once, turned back to Vidar and promptly slammed her palm against his nose. Loki winced as he heard the crack and Vidar’s hands immediately shot up to his face. Sif promptly turned on her heels and stalked away from the group. Loki watched her go, unconsciously smiling softly as he observed her departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem is not mine. It is by one of my favorite poets Pablo Neruda
> 
> \------------
> 
> I Love You Without Knowing How
> 
> I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.


	5. Chapter 5

“No, no, no,” Loki shook his head. “You’re holding your hands wrong. Curve your fingers more,” he insisted.

“You said this was an easy one,” Sif shot back.

“It _is_ easy,” Loki insisted.

“Maybe to you,” she grit out.

“Look, if you just shifted your hands like this.”

Taking hold of her hands he altered her fingers to better fit the spell. When he was done he raised his eyes and met her hers. In retrospect he knew better. In reality he couldn’t have helped himself. Meeting her eyes he froze. His hands on hers he could force his mind to work properly. He completely forgot what they were doing until she so eloquently reminded him.

“And is that the proper position?” she asked.

Loki’s eyes widened. “Oh. Uh. Yes, Like that,” he stated, trying to regain some of his composure. “You know,” she began. “We could-”

_“Sif,”_ Thor called from somewhere beyond Loki’s door.

The lady Sif straightened and Loki fought back the urge to curse. Gods damn his brother. Up until this point he’d had the lady Sif’s undivided attention. Of course Thor would come in and ruin it, he thought dejectedly. 

“Loki,” Sif said flatly. “Hand positions?”

“But Thor-” he began

“Thor can wait,” stated empirically. “How do I position my hands correctly?”

With a grin Loki took her hands gently and repositioned her fingers. “Like this,” he said gently. “This way you channel the power the way you wish.”

“Sommerfugl,”** she chanted cautiously.

A frail, pitiful, looking butterfly appeared briefly, shimmered, then disappeared. Loki could have summoned one a thousand times more substantial but this one mean so much more to him than any of his own ever could have meant. The look in Sif’s eyes meant even more. 

“I did that?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, that was all you,” Loki confirmed.

_“Sif?”_ Thor called once more.

Gods dammit, Loki cursed mentally. Trust his brother to ruin everything.

“Yes, I’m coming. Wait!” Sif called back. “Dearest Loki?”

_Dearest?_ “Yes?”

“Hold my spot please. I would not like to come back to learn more and find another has so easily taken my position.”

“Never, my lady.”

“Promise me?”

The gods be damned, the look in her face was too much to bear. Dropping to a knee he grasped her hand in both of his. “Never, milady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sommerfugl* is my poor attempts at Norwegian. I apologize.
> 
> As always all my Sifki is dedicated to Miss Melly.


End file.
